by Bee Murray
I heard the rustle of the map as she consulted her directions again. The van started reliably enough, but the cough of the exhaust wasn’t reassuring as she shifted it into drive and pulled the hunk of junk back onto the road.
“Tire feels great,” she said cheerfully.
“Yeah, yeah.”
***
* * *
Dusk fell before we pulled into the narrow driveway of the cabin Tuesday had promised me. Lit up by our headlights, it looked quaint and rustic, but I didn’t like the look of the inky darkness beyond the cabin. Like most of the older places scattered out amongst the trees in the Olympics, it was made of rough-hewn logs, but unlike the other random cabins, this cabin had been built by someone with money and merely styled after the old frontier log cabins instead of haphazardly built like one.
Small mercies were better than none. Maybe.
It had a small porch complete with porch swing, a river rock chimney, and a cherry red metal snow roof.
We stumbled out of the van, eager to get inside.
I carried the supplies Tuesday had stolen from the FoodMart, an embarrassingly small assortment of snacks and an enormous bottle of wine that was clearly not for me, and set them on the swing.
Tuesday searched the porch until she found a small, hideously ugly ceramic cat statue in the corner. She picked it up and threw it viciously against the side of the cabin, shattering it into tiny pieces, and I stared at her in disbelief. Violent little thing.
She ignored me completely and focused her attention on rummaging through the pile of rubble. After a moment, she let out a little squeal of victory. “Got the key!” she proclaimed triumphantly as she held it up for me to see.
I grabbed the key, unlocked the deadbolt and pushed her inside. I pulled the door shut, slid the lock home and leaned back against the door.
The feeling of being watched only increased as I peered out the window beside the door and scanned the tiny, darkened yard.
Something was out there, but after the last 24 hours I’d had, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what it was.
14
VINNIE
A sharp pain dragged me out of the blissful blackness of sleep. My hands came up defensively, but they were pushed away and something forced between my lips.
“What the f—”
A weight on my torso kept me pinned to the bed, and I grabbed my attacker in a tight grip and roared my anger into his face.
Whoever it was, they were going to die a painful death. The smell of jasmine and gasoline drifted towards my nose and I froze.
“Tuesday?”
She struggled in my grip like a fish on a hook.
“Let me go!”
I released her immediately, and she glared at me and shoved a cup of deli counter quality blood into my hands. She was straddling my torso, her thighs gripping me tight. I could get used to being woken up like this.
“Wh-what were you doing? I was sleeping for chrissakes!”
Tuesday pushed her hair out of her face and rubbed at her arms before rolling her eyes and glaring down at me. “I thought you were dead, ok? God!”
I held up the styrofoam cup and looked at her incredulously. “I hate to break it to you, doll, but, uh, I am dead.”
She let out an exasperated breath. “You know what I mean! You weren’t moving and nothing woke you up.”
“Well, I’m awake now, and just the normal amount of dead,” I said as I sipped the blood she’d given me and moved my hips beneath her.
“Wise ass,” she muttered.
She crawled off me and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Do you always… sleep like that?” Her voice sounded strangled and soft. It made me instantly remorseful for my reaction.
“Sleeping is a little… weird for vamps,” I said. “I haven’t been on a regular sleep schedule for… well, ever, and I crashed a little hard.”
“Sleep like the dead.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Never thought I’d see it in literal format.”
I rubbed my cheek where she’d hit me.
“I’m not apologizing for the slap,” she said. “You scared me.”
“Fine,” I grumbled around my straw. “So, what happens now?”
Tuesday got up from the bed and I immediately regretted asking the question. I wanted her heat beside me. It was something I hadn’t realized I’d missed… the warmth of someone’s skin pressed against yours. It used to piss me off that Tuesday was a hot sleeper; I was always pushing her away at night.
If she were in my bed now, I’d never let her go.
Fuck, I’d been stupid.
Tuesday paced the worn carpet, and I propped myself up on the bed to watch her. She was still wearing the t-shirt she’d taken from my house underneath her utilitarian jacket and sturdy jeans. It pleased me to no end that she was wearing something of mine. I wanted to take her shopping and dress every inch of her. A masterpiece like Tuesday deserved fine silks and lace, not cargo pants.
“Stop smirking,” she snapped, “this isn’t a joke.”
“I never said it was,” I said. I hadn’t realized I was smirking;I knew it wasn’t a joke—I had just been busy imagining taking her on a shopping spree and watching her try on outfit after outfit. Pointless extravagance was the absolute best part of being rich. Plus? She deserved it. I owed it to her. But something told me I’d never get to see that through. Depressing.
“Someone finally picked up the phone at Pisces,” she said. “I was wondering if something else had happened, but… nevermind.” Her brow furrowed with worry, but she caught my eye and it smoothed again in an instant. Mask on. Business-face. She was too good at that.
“Okay, is that good news?”
“It is. It means we have support now.”
That sounded like a good thing.
“And they know where we are?”
Tuesday grimaced. “In a general sense. But I’m still not convinced that Baldwin hasn’t got his hooks into anyone else at the agency.”
Now it was my turn to frown. Baldwin’s betrayal stung. That bastard had been with me since the beginning. I thought I could trust him. He had access to everything—keys to the proverbial kingdom. I still couldn’t understand why he’d done it, and I hated not knowing things.
“Great.”
“You will hate this,” Tuesday warned. “But we don’t have any choice.”
“Hit me,” I said, and then held up a hand. “But not literally, unless you want this to spiral into something else…”
Tuesday glared at me and I bit back my laughter. I loved winding her up, but only because she made the most glorious pissed off faces.
“Are you done?”
I shrugged. Not remotely.
“If you can’t take this seriously for one second, I’m going to kill you myself just to make my life easier,” she snarled.
“Was that a challenge?”
“Vincent!”
I chuckled and sipped my blood. “Fine, fine. I’m taking this seriously. Please, continue.”
“Oh, thank you, you’re too kind.”
My god, even her sarcasm was cute. I’d forgotten. How the hell had I forgotten that?
“So. Here’s the deal. Pisces is going to work with the Seattle PD and the coroner’s officer to release a statement saying that you were killed in the blast.”
I held up one finger. “Slight problem, kitten. I’m already dead, remember?”
“Did you know the vampire that Baldwin and Zach kidnapped with you?” she asked pertly.
“No. I didn’t even ask his name—”
Tuesday shook her head as though she was trying to banish the image from her mind. I didn’t need to ask; I knew what she was imagining. I saw him in my mind, too. The bloody gaps where his fangs should have been...
“For now, that’s all we need,” Tuesday said firmly. “An extra male body was present. It’ll be on what’s left of the security cameras, and it should be enough to keep the press focused on mourning th
e life of the amazing Vinnie Quake to buy us some time.”
“I don’t like how you said ‘amazing,’” I said dryly.
She shrugged. “You’re going to have to get used to that, cupcake.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. “So, what’s the point of all this?”
“Baldwin needs to think that he did what he set out to do. Chances are, he’ll slip up. He’ll get comfortable thinking that he’s fooled everyone. But my boss knows everything. They’ll be watching him, and they’ll have other eyes on him as well. If he makes a move, leaves the city, spends one penny of any money that doesn’t belong to him—we’ll know about it.”
“You want the rats to come out of the woodwork,” I said. I was kind of in awe of what she’d planned out. From the explosion to the social media storm… and now this? “You’re fantastic at this, Tues.”
“I know,” she snapped. “That’s why you’re still paying me.”
“I am?”
“I’m on retainer,” she said with a quick smile. “That’s why you’re still alive, and I’m still here.”
I sighed heavily. “So, you’re only here because you’re being paid?”
“You got it,” she replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “You think I wanted to be out in the middle of nowhere with my obnoxious fang-headed ex who was on everyone’s kill list?”
“That’s partly your fault,” I pointed out.
“Details,” she snapped. “Baldwin will need to make a statement. Your record label is going to freak out when they hear the news.”
“You’re not planning on clueing them in on the plan?”
Tuesday shook her head and tucked a strand of loose hair back into her bun. “No way. There are literally four people who know the truth right now, and we’re two of them. That’s how it’s going to stay. I don’t trust anyone, and neither should you.”
“They are sticklers for rules,” I mused. “You don’t even know what a pain in the ass my last album was to produce…”
“I literally could not care less.” Tuesday resumed her pacing. “Your fans will go nuts. They were already nuts, but this is going to make them insane. Your death… your murder… International attention.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Of course, it’s a good idea,” she said vehemently. “You wanted a coming out party? Here it is. You can come out in a blaze of glory, having survived an inferno… a literal phoenix from the ashes. New career. New everything. Get it?”
I nodded dumbly. She was good.
“Now, I have to get on the phone with a photographer and a private investigator. I need Baldwin followed.”
“Why? I thought you already set that up. Aren’t you supposed to be notified the moment he does anything?”
“I will be, but I also want his reaction to the news of your death caught on film. There won’t be any pre-prep meeting with him. It’ll just be straight to a police press conference. He’ll find out about your death at the same time the world does.”
I smiled, showing my fangs just a little. “You’re sneaky. Were you always this sneaky?”
“I learned from the best.”
Her tone stung just a little, but that was the point.
“What about the protestors? Are the cops going to do anything about them? There were cameras everywhere. Those assholes need to pay. Destruction of property — Murder — everything!”
Tuesday shook her head. “Probably not. As soon as the news breaks, the anti-vamp groups will go underground to avoid prosecution. It’s what always happens. The dumb ones who got their photos taken might lose their jobs or be arrested, but it won’t be anything more than a slap on the wrist. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“It is what it is, for now,” Tuesday sighed. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked out the window. Dawn was on its way. “The crazy ones, the zealots, they’ll crow about your death. They will say it was justified and use it as proof for their ridiculous theories. It will make them look even crazier, which will do its work to bring attention to the vamp cause and make them look like villains… That’s what we want.”
“You’ve got it all figured out.”
“Not everything,” she replied, but I heard a touch of pride in her voice. “But most of it. It’s my job to be proactive. I can’t control the reaction, but I can set up the dominoes so that they fall the way I want them to.”
“Except for that little riot…”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t make allowance for just how many people you’d pissed off in the last five years.”
Touche.
She sighed heavily and leaned against the wall. “Now we just have to wait for Baldwin to do something stupid.”
“Have you slept?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I have more to do.”
“Have you had a shower?”
She looked down at the grubby t-shirt she wore and made a face. “Noooo.”
“Maybe you should.”
She wrinkled her nose at me. “Hilarious.”
“I’m just saying it might make you feel a little… clearer.”
Tuesday covered her face with her hands and let out a little scream of frustration. “Fine,” she said after a moment. “Fine. I’ll take a shower. But then I have work to do.”
“I — am going back to sleep,” I announced. I saluted her with the styrofoam cup. “Thank you for the snack. Now, get out.”
Tuesday blinked at me.
“Unless you want to stay?” I patted the bed beside me and she made a face.
“Keep dreaming, pal.”
“I don’t dream,” I said casually as I set the cup of blood on the bedside table. “It’s the weirdest thing. I used to dream really vividly—”
“You used to kick me in your sleep, too,” she said dryly.
“Like I said, vivid dreams. But now, nothing. Just… blackness.”
“Lucky you.” She walked to the door and leaned against the doorframe dramatically. “Pleasant blackness, Vinnie.”
Now it was my turn to frown at her, and she laughed as she closed the door. This was not going the way I’d expected it.
Although, I wasn’t really sure what I’d expected.
Seeing Tuesday again had been a shock that I still hadn’t quite gotten over. I didn’t think I’d ever see her again, or that I’d still have such… overpowering feelings for her. She was fighting against what she felt and was allowing her anger and hurt to do the talking. It was easier for her that way, that was for sure. I just had to let her work through it. Maybe we’d come out of it together —
I smashed my face into the pillow and growled in frustration. I’d done this to myself. To her. To us.
This was my punishment, and I deserved it.
I could have done without the extra drama, but if that’s what it took to bring Tuesday back into my life, then so be it.
I rolled off the bed and walked to the window. Another blood-red sunrise. That didn’t bode well.
Or maybe I remembered the saying wrong. I think it had to do with sailors so maybe it didn’t even apply.
I pulled the curtain across to block out the sight of the approaching daylight. I’d thought it would get easier to block out the light. I’d always spent most of my time staying awake until dawn—that was what musicians did. We were only really alive between 11:00 p.m. and 4:00 a.m. But now that it was my reality, I didn’t feel so hot about it.
Everything’s different when it’s not an option.
My options had changed just a little.
Tuesday’s plan — to announce that I died (again) in the blast — was a good one. And it might be the only surefire way to know what Baldwin’s game actually was.
If he hadn’t skipped town already.
But Baldwin wasn’t stupid. It would look hella suspicious if he just disappeared after what had just gone down. He was guilty as fuck, and I couldn’t wait until everyone knew the truth.<
br />
And what the hell was up with that Zach guy—Tuesday had mentioned that she knew him.
We’d been in the middle of trying to escape the house at that point, and I hadn’t given her words much thought… but now that we were out.
I strode back toward the door and grabbed the knob, but it turned in my hand and the door flew toward me as Tuesday stormed back into the room.
She crashed into my chest and stumbled back, but when I reached out to steady her, she slapped my hand away.
“What the hell?”
“Don’t you what the hell me, Vincent Quaker,” she raged. “What the hell is this?”
I hated it when she used my full name. No one ever used my full name. I’d been Vinnie Quake for so long that I didn’t even know who that other guy even was anymore.
“What?”
She shoved her phone in my face and put her hands on her hips as I struggled to focus on the image on the screen.
“What am I looking at?”
“You have eyes,” she snarled, “use them.”
I frowned at the phone, confused by her aggression. And then it hit me. Baldwin. I was looking at a photo of Baldwin.
“Where did you get this?”
“My photographer works fast,” she said simply. “Seems like Baldwin has been a busy guy since we last saw him. He’s been on the phone a lot.” She made a swiping motion with her finger and I pressed my finger to the phone and followed her unspoken instruction.
The next photo was a closeup of Baldwin’s face as he sat outside a 24-hour cafe. His phone was pressed to his ear, but he didn’t look upset or angry. He looked… elated.
“Who was that with him?” Tuesday demanded.
“Tuesday, what’s this about… Where is Baldwin now?”
“You’re not answering my question.”
I gritted my teeth and looked down at the phone again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do, Vinnie.”
There was something strange about Tuesday’s voice that made me look up from the phone. She was wearing her business mask again but her eyes flashed in anger.
Shit.
I concentrated on the phone and swiped my finger across the screen.
